tody, as though his guilt were an accepted fact and nothing
but the formalities of the law stood between him and his final doom. "It
must make you all feel queer," he wound up, "to think you have waited on
him and seen him tramping about these rooms for months, just as if he had
no wicked feelings in his heart and meant to marry Miss Cumberland, not
to kill her."

"Oh, oh," Maggie sobbed out. "And a perfect gentleman he was, too. I
can't believe no bad of him. He wasn't like--" Her breath caught, and so
suddenly that Sweetwater was always convinced that the more cautious
Helen had twitched her by her skirt. "Like--like other gentlemen who came
here. It was a kind word he had or a smile. I--I--" She made no attempt
to finish but bounded to her feet, pulling up the more sedate Helen with
her. "Let's go," she whispered, "I'm afeared of the man."

The other yielded and began to cross the floor behind the
impetuous Maggie.

Sweetwater summoned up his courage.

"One moment," he prayed. "Will you not tell me, before you go,
whether the candlestick I have noticed on the dining-room mantel is
not one of a pair?"

"Yes, there were two--_once_," said Helen, resisting Maggie's effort to
drag her out through the open door.

"_Once_," smiled Sweetwater; "by which you mean, three days ago."

A lowering of her head and a sudden make for the door.

Sweetwater changed his tone to one of simple inquiry.

"And was that where they always stood, the pair of them, one on each end
of the dining-room mantel?"

She nodded; involuntarily, perhaps, but decisively.

Sweetwater hid his disappointment. The room mentioned was a thoroughfare
for the whole family. Any member of it could have taken the candlestick.

"I'm obliged to you," said he; and might have ventured further had she
given him the opportunity. But she was too near the door to resist the
temptation of flight. In another moment she was gone, and Sweetwater
found himself alone with his reflections.

They were not altogether unpleasing. He was sure that he read the
evidences of struggle in her slowly working lips and changing impulses.

"So, so!" thought he. "The good seed has found its little corner of soil.
I'll leave it to take root and sprout. Perhaps the coroner will profit by
it. If not, I've a way of coaxing tender plants which should bring this
one to fruit. We'll see."

The moon shone that night, much to Sweetwater's discomforture. As he
moved about the stable-ya